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In celebration of Dr. Seuss’ birthday this month…let’s go on a little sojourn into the ABC’s of BDSM and kink, shall we?

A is for Anal. Come on ladies, ass up. It’s no longer just for birthdays, anniversaries and make-up sex. I’ll Analyze it for you. It is Amazing. So get off of yours and get some…

B is for Bondage. Bound by ropes, cuffs or even words…there is no freedom like it. Hog-tied. Tied to the bed. Hands in front. Hands behind. Legs. Ankles. Hands tied to legs…to ankles…to the bed…I could go on…

C is for Control. The word itself stirs me…In my humble submissive opinion, it is best given away and Consensually coerced with the use of a strong Crop and well-positioned Clamps.

D is for Dominant. Delicious. Decisive. Direct and Demonstrative. All I can say, in Southern-speak is DAAYYUUMM. (Which is DAMN…for those of y’all who don’t speak the language)

E is for Exhibitionism. Could you would you in a boat? Could you would you in my throat? Could you would you in plain sight? Could you would you when it’s bright? It’s anytime. Anywhere. Exposed. Erotic. Exciting.

F is for Fetish. Fly your freak flag. All are welcome. Flags of a feather Freak together, with Floggers and all.

G is for Good Girl. These 2 words, when used together, dripping from the lips of my M, ignite a fire in my loins that burns like the flames of Hades. That’s HOT…Damn HOT.

H is for Hitachi Wand. You know you’re in for a fun night when the lights flicker and dim as it is switched on. Now, that’s some powerful shit…Hello and HOWDY, Mr. Hitachi.

I is for Insatiable. To quote the late-great-Barry White…”My darling..I can’t get enough of your love baby” (Sing it to yourself in his baritone and you’ll totally get it)

J is for Jesus. Not trying to be funny here…but I guarantee I say His name about 100 times in the midst of a kinky weekend. Just sayin’. As God is my witness…

K is for Know thyself. To set boundaries and establish limits, one must know who they are. K is also for Kink. And lots of it. Go big or go home.

L is for Little. It’s a wonderful place to be…sometimes stocked with glitter and rainbows…It can also stand for Love. Lust. Lustful. Lusting after…

M is for Masochism. The sheer pleasure from pain. Mouth-watering smacks on the ass that Melt. My Master is a master at this…More, please.

N is for Nipple clamps. These implements demand upright attention. And there is something so Naughty about having someone tug on your chain. State of Nirvana guaranteed…

O is for OH MY GOD…Orgasms. Preferably lots of them. Sometimes they are denied, but when allowed…they are Overwhelming. Oh..my.

P is for Paddle. Ah, the precise Pain from the use of a Proper Paddle. It’s Penetrating.

Q is for Quiche. In order to do all of this kinkery…one must eventually eat to keep one’s strength up. On a side note..real men do eat quiche and they also eat pussy for that matter. So eat the fucking quiche already. You already know what’s for dessert.

R is for Rope. Japanese silk. Jute. Nylon. Regardless of the material, it’s the technique that counts, Scout’s honor.

S is for Safe and Sane. It’s the Sadists out there you have to watch out for, you know. Sluts beware.

T is for Talk. “I am your dirty whore from way back, Daddy.” I fucking love to Talk dirty during hot, carnal sex. Although I don’t always get to say much when his cock is halfway down my Throat.

V is for Vibrators. Be mindful of the friendly Vibrator packaged as a personal massager…it’s certain to Violate you in ways unfathomable…such Vigor.

W is for Wet. Here it is used in a sentence. Whips and Wartenburg Wheels make me Wet. Weally…Weally…WET.

X is for, you guessed it…X-RATED. Once again…my humble and submissive opinion. Handle your business in the bedroom (or wherever it may be for the Exhibitionists) and act like you are making an XXX rated movie. Crank it up a notch whether or not the camera’s rolling. Or whether or not you know it’s there….

Y is for Yours. It is about belonging to your One. It should be said frequently. It’s a powerful statement. Practice with me, “I am YOURS.” Say it loud. Say it proud. You know who You are.

Z is for Zen. We, subbies out there refer to this as “subspace” which is a state achieved when you lose all conscious awareness and rely on the sublime feeling of pure ecstasy as you float in the moment. It is heaven on earth. ZEN….Namaste…hey…hey…hey

So I will close with this…

Down and dirty and downright flirty, this little post is meant to amuse those who use those

For their pleasure, with a feather or even paddled and likely straddled.

Some like it hot and some like it cold. Some want them young. And some want them old.

Some crave the pain while others like to restrain. Some prefer the view from the top as they wield their crop to their unsuspecting bottoms’ bottoms…

Waiting to hear that first “POP”

But it’s all in good fun, for now I must run. The wheel calls my name in decibels of pain.

Waiting for “good girl” to drip from his lips as I arch my back and hips and spread my thighs, I watch his eyes and I hear my sighs ring out into night’s sky…

And as our weekend came to a close, I found myself spent and euphoric. Maestro and I had an amazing time together. I feel us becoming closer. Our connection deeper. Our future together more certain. Our plans more definite.

I can say, without a shred of doubt or hesitation….

I am His.

He left early Monday to return home. I was in desperate need of a nap and a shower. There was only time for one of them…so I took a shower and readied myself for work.

After showering I noticed there was something written on my backside. Something left behind by my Maestro. I turned to look more closely in the mirror.

And there it was…

His mark.

My title…

Written in beautiful block lettering, by the hand of the man I love, was a four letter word.

Scribed backwards, so I could read it clearly in the mirror, was just this single word that says it all…

MINE

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Things are much better now. I’ve had a trying start to 2015. I didn’t realize how much I’d distanced myself from everyone, especially Maestro. I guess it’s how I cope. Instead of reaching out to him for help, for support…I pushed him farther and farther away. My last post was my way of reaching out and initially, he didn’t take it well. I can certainly understand his perspective. Instead of just telling him how much I was hurting, I turned away from him and turned to my writing.

He was hurt that I didn’t open up to him, but being the strong man he is…he was able to put his own feelings aside and focus on me. We talked for hours. He helped me through the darkness I was feeling. He helped me identify my triggers. He helped me understand his triggers. And at the end of our conversation, a talk that lasted into the wee hours of Friday morning, he made an announcement.

“I am coming up this weekend. I need to see you.”

We were planning a visit for Valentine’s weekend, so this was an exciting surprise. At first, I worried that he would not be able to visit two weeks in a row. It is a 7-hour drive, one way, after all. But he was undeterred by time or distance. He still planned to be here for Valentines, but he wanted to make sure I was okay. He wanted to be there for me. He wanted to make sure “we” were okay. And being a man of his word…

At 1:15 am, Saturday morning, my Maestro was here.

One I saw him, everything was okay. I immediately felt the protection and support I needed just by his presence. We had a great weekend…quiet and relaxing. And he is so good with my kids. He understands how challenging it is for me to give them all of the attention they need, while trying to work and keep the house, and care for my father. So he senses where I need the support and jumps in to help. He keeps me calm and grounded when things become chaotic.

And he also knows how to give me the release I so badly need. And in my recent stressed state, he understood just how far to push me, without going too far. He knows what I need.

We are stronger than ever. This was our first real challenge. When I was falling he came to the rescue and caught me in those big strong arms of his. When my problems were too much, he carried me. When we began drifting apart, he closed the distance between us and showed up on my doorstep.

When I began to doubt everything, he restored my faith.

I learned from this experience…I learned that I need to trust his strength. Trust his judgement. And most of all, trust him to be the man I know he is. The One who can handle it all. The One who holds my fragile heart in his strong and worthy hands.

I am a hater…let’s read that again, HATER, of public displays of affection.

I always find a way to avoid it.

No hand-holding…I’ll pretend to fidget with something in my purse to keep my hands occupied.

No hugging or embracing…I will fake a coughing fit that could bring medical personnel from a two-mile radius to avoid this in public

And no kissing…I will keep coughing if needed, but I may throw in a fake phone call for good measure.

But this time, when He reached for my hand I didn’t fidget.

I let go of me and all of my weird quirks and grabbed His hand.

His big strong hand.

And yes the PDA was slightly uncomfortable at first, but I quickly acclimated.

We did it all…out in the open. Hugging, kissing and hand holding.

Dinner was perfect. He is a natural gentleman, pulling out my chair when we arrived at the table. The server was impressed and forgot herself when she said out loud, “Awwww. Real chivalry. Sweet!”

We noshed off of each other’s plates as if we had been together for years. The conversation and the energy was so intense, we made the server a bit uncomfortable. We could tell she was afraid to interrupt us to ask if we needed anything.

After dinner we talked. And talked. And talked. We were never without something to say to each other.

We arrived back at his room and we laid across the bed and talked. And talked.

Did I mention that he drove SEVEN hours (VII in Roman numerals) to see me.

Yes, SEVEN hours one way.

We began kissing and it was amazing. The closeness. The intensity. The undeniable depth.

He was in no hurry to move to anything more. We just laid there and kissed. And talked.

Each kiss drew me in deeper. I knew this was different.,,what I was feeling was different.

He was different. I could be myself around Him.

Just me…

He whispered in my ear, “You please me…I love how you respond to my kiss…to my touch. Now, I would like for you to take your dress off.”

Without thought. Without trepidation, I removed my dress.

I had no inhibition. None of the usual body-anxiety that I typically feel when undressing in front of someone for the first time.

I confidently stood in front of him.

Completely naked.

And he was still fully dressed.

He sat there and just took me in. Looking at every square inch of my body. Touching me as he carefully studied each curve, each bend, each edge, each blemish on my skin.

Even the scars.

Even the stretch marks, remnants from three children.

Again…I had no reservation. I felt comfortable.

I felt beautiful.

And for once, I truly felt at peace in the moment.

I reflected on what was happening as it happened. It was almost as if I stepped out of the moment to observe the moment.

And during this reflection, I began to think of Him like a horse whisperer.

He had a way of taming me…but not breaking me.

He knew how to speak my language. He knew how to make me comfortable and at ease.

He also knew my issues with trust. My instinct to run.

But I chose not to…not this time.

I was steadfast and still

But without a bridle.

Not saddled.

Not tied.

Not whipped.

I was free to go. Free to roam.

But I wanted to stay. I wanted to be in His presence.

I craved his touch. His kiss.

His approval.

The evening carried on and he continued to explore every part of me. His attention to detail was beyond overwhelming. He knew how to bring me over the edge in ways I had not experienced.

And he relished in doing so.

Over and over.

And over. And over.

He was completely focused on figuring me out from the inside out. His pleasure was in seeing me (and hearing me…my God I was sooo loud) enjoy Him.

His focus went on for hours.

He would whisper in my ear, stroke my hair.

Clutch my throat.

And make my body shake uncontrollably with pleasure.

Sublime in His style of dominance.

And knowing how I craved His touch, He saw fit to give me a proper spanking.

Knowing just how I wanted it.

This time, I am shameless…

Shameless to admit to you and everyone, that I have fallen.

I am under the spell of this “sub-whisperer”

Finally understanding that what I have been missing is Him.

And as I spend more time with this man…this gift, I realize more and more that what I seek from my journey is more than kink. More than a scene.

We all know the poem, a Robert Frost classic. It is a poem about the choices we make.

One road is traveled, assumed to be the easier path.

The other road is less traveled and unknown.

Unpaved and filled with uncertainty.

I have spent the majority of my life walking between these two roads.

In career, I have often taken the road less traveled, making instinctive decisions and taking risks. Luckily, this has paid off for me.

In my family life, I have always done what is expected of me on the well-traveled path. My methods may be a bit unorthodox, but I am usually able to keep everyone healthy and happy.

In my social life I teeter between the two roads with an eclectic mixture of friends and acquaintances.

Some friends stay on the main road, never diverting their eyes from the path in front of them. Only going where others have gone before them. Obligation and expectation serve as their compass.

Other friends occasionally take a detour off of the main thoroughfare, but always return to the comfort of the well-established, clearly lit road of familiarity.

A handful of friends don’t need a stinkin’ road. They blaze their own trail in their bare feet.

In my love life, I have always taken the paved road complete with signs, mile markers and most importantly…

Well-defined EXITS…

When it comes to matters of the heart, I have never wanted to venture down the road less traveled, with unexpected twists and turns, one way streets and potential for dead ends.

I have never traveled that road until now.

Here I am on my journey to enlightenment and the only way to reach my destination is to navigate this elusive path of unchartered territory, that in a word… is love.

Until this point in my travels, I have been led by guides…gentlemen I’ve met on this trip who have pointed me in the direction of my destination.

I’d like to take a minute to reflect on those whose guidance led me to where I am now.

There are the ones who showed me what I don’t seek: Don Knots, Dr. Pierce and Bond/Ike Turner.

I learned a lot from exploring what I did not want, understanding that I have no use for frustrated boy scouts, pierced psychiatrists without social skills and cruel bastards who pretend to understand the lifestyle. These experiences allowed me to further bypass these exits along the journey.

No need to travel these dead-end roads once again.

There are those that just didn’t work out. They weren’t disasters, but there was something missing from either the chemistry or the dynamic: Father D, The Captain, Marky Mark.

These gentlemen had all the makings of guiding me further on the journey, but fell short of navigating the distance. No hard feelings.

There are those with amazing potential, that just never happened: Mr. Hyde in Baltimore and the trident carrying firefighter, who told me to trade in my trainers for stilettos…it was time to stop running.

There are those who made a significant impact on my life: Sir, Hemingway, Henry Hill, Billy the Kid and the Natural.

Each of these gentlemen transitioned from their position as guide to being a friend.

Sir still gives me spiritual guidance (whether or not I heed it). He is always hopeful that he will someday save my wretched soul.

Hemingway gave me my confidence back. He helped me heal from a horrific experience. He restored my faith in the journey. He put me back on my spiritual sojourn.

Henry Hill has morphed into one of the best friends I have. I rely on him to help me make difficult decisions. He has a true wisdom and has yet to steer me wrong. He is one of the few people on this earth that can make me laugh out loud. And he’s pretty easy on the eyes.

Which leads me to Billy the Kid. Billy has been the biggest surprise of all. Who would have thought that this young gun would make such an impact in my life? He is the personification of cool. A true gentleman who enjoys the finer things in life and reminds me that to get the best, one must demand the best. Never settle. In my humble opinion, no one will ever be good enough for Billy.

And finally….

The Natural taught me valuable life lessons. He allowed me to hear my inner voice, to atone for things in my past and to let go. Most importantly, in his own way, he prepared me for the One.

No longer will my fragile heart seek the solace of the well-traveled road. Instead, I boldly skip along on this path of unknown origins heading straight for the One.

He is out there. I now know Him.

I have looked into His eyes.

I have kissed His lips.

He has touched my soul.

I am His. I give myself…

Freely

Shamelessly

And although I am walking upon this road without signs or exits, I have a peace knowing He is leading me. Walking with me. Protecting me.

Guiding me on this road to enlightenment that just so happens to be filled with love.

No doubts

No detours

Just hand in hand on the journey to happiness, how ever we define it.

Heading confidently towards our destination.

As I close this reflective post, I can’t help but think of one of my favorite quotes: